Wait on Me (Knights of Retribution MC Book 2) Page 8

  Shock. It’s the only thing I feel. I should’ve known her father had something to do with the way we ended things, but what she said to me that day . . . it’s like she had these pent-up feelings for ages.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine how . . . how everything felt.”

  “You lied to me,” I state in a low tone as the reality of what happened starts to sink in.

  She nods. “I thought I didn’t have a choice. He told me if I didn’t let you go, he’d get rid of you. I . . . I didn’t understand who my father was back then, but somehow, I knew what he was capable of. I didn’t want him to kill you, so I broke your heart.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter in complete disbelief.

  “I should’ve run away with you. I should’ve gone back to the hotel with you and caught the first flight out of Mexico, but I was a coward, a coward who wanted to appease her powerful father, and I’ve lived with regret ever since. I don’t expect you to forgive me for it all, but I—”

  “Marisole, shut up,” I grumble, shutting my eyes. All of this pain. The way I pushed away anyone who got close over the years. It was all senseless. None of it makes any sense. None of it was justified. Marisole hurt me and I made sure no one ever got close enough to do the same thing again. I kept myself guarded, safe behind thick walls. Fuck, who am I kidding? I’ve barely been living.

  He married his daughter off to Scar, but why? What for? Who is Scar to him?

  “No, I can’t. I’ve kept this shit inside for ages and now I need to get it out. He arranged for me to marry Scar since he was the protégé for one of his strongest allies. I was married to him, moved across the country with him until they settled here in Delaware.”

  I open my eyes again and her golden ones are locked onto mine. The guilt. The shame. All of it is vividly in front of me. “You got hooked on dope with them,” I state, already knowing for a fact she did.

  “Yeah. I . . . I think it was one of the only things that made me feel better.” She keeps her eyes locked on mine and clears her throat before speaking up again. “He passed me around to his brothers, Ravage. Now, I’m not telling you this so you pity me, but I want you to understand what it was like there. I didn’t shoot up because I’m an addict. I mean, I am now, but I . . . I did all of this to survive, and even the heroin wasn’t enough. I tried to kill myself and they caught me before I was—”

  “You did what?!” I grab onto the side of her face and neck, certain I won’t be able to understand why a woman like her would wish for death.

  Seriousness coats over the guilt in her eyes and she clears her throat again. “I was married off to Scar to solidify an alliance, not for love or anything like that. Then before I knew it, my father was dead.”

  I scoff, “The second your father died, the agreement he made was null and void. You should’ve left then.”

  She knows I’m right. “Things aren’t so easy. If you were me, you wouldn’t have left either. Could you imagine what would’ve happened to me if I tried to leave? If he caught me trying to do it? I was happy when he caught me trying to kill myself. He just shot me up. I thought he was going to torture me!” she screams, pushing at my chest.

  I’m trying so hard to sympathize with her situation. Marisole wasn’t the person who made decisions here. It was her father. At the same time, it’s not like she was powerless. She could’ve made different decisions and in doing so, it could’ve changed her entire life. Things might not have ended up the way they have.

  “Marisole, what is going on in this head of yours?” I finally question her, and she jumps to her feet. I stand too and watch her as she paces the room—her face twists in aggravation and misunderstanding.

  “Is he really dead, like are you certain of it?” Her question mind boggles me. There’s no way I’ve heard her right.

  Given I know who her father is, I can attest to it. “Why are you even asking me this right now?” There’s gotta be a reason.

  “A man like him,” Marisole pauses, and I see she’s struggling to find the words. “A man like him doesn’t just die.”

  She takes a seat back down on my bed and I look into her golden eyes. Marisole doesn’t think her father’s dead. It’s obvious. But what does she think? Does she believe he faked his own death and Scar was somehow in on it? Does she think if she left, her father would come crashing in and put her in her place? Regardless, I won’t let these ridiculous ideas plague her mind.

  “Marisole, he’s been dead for almost nine years.”

  We’ve been broken up for ten. Rafael would’ve died shortly after marrying his daughter off to a disgustin’ creature of a man. I wonder if, as he rolls around in his grave, he regrets the choices he made. I wonder if he would’ve even cared.

  Shaking my head, I suck in a deep breath and look at the food I had sitting next to my chair. “You haven’t eaten, so get you some food. I’ll be back later.” I go to the door, walk out and lock it from the outside.

  At least she won’t be able to hurt herself.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ravage

  Thank fuck, I took all the weapons out of my bedroom. If I didn’t, she might’ve already offed herself or attempted to, at least. Everything Marisole admitted to me a few minutes ago is still sinking in. Fuck, it might take a while for me to wrap my head around everything she admitted.

  I head straight over to the clubhouse and walk right on in. Typically, I don’t leave her alone since it’s still early. She’s on her third day through her withdrawal and the side effects from the toxins leavin’ her body are comin’ in hot right now. When I do leave, she’s typically asleep.

  Flora and Benita are sittin’ on the couch, both women on one side of Needles. Fuck, he could be sleepin’ with them both for all I know. Flora’s his ol’ lady, but he does shoot porn with her and they do group shoots when needed. “Flora, Benita,” I call the women’s names, and they both look at me.

  “Yeah?” Flora comments with a bit of sass.

  “I need you two to go sit outside of my bedroom. I don’t want Marisole hurtin’ herself.”

  Benita draws her brows together and looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. “Don’t come at me with none of that talkin’ back shit. You can do more than suck dick, so get your ass over there and do it.”

  Flora bursts out into laughter and Needles has a really hard time holdin’ back his smirk. Benita, on the other hand, rises up from the couch and sashays her ass outta the club. Flora gets up and heads in the direction Benita went, but stops and looks right at me. “You know, Ravage, she’s just pissed because it’s the only thing she’s great at.” Flora giggles and walks to the door, leaving the clubhouse.

  Needles now lets his laughter take over him, practically pissing himself. Sly walks in through the clubhouse doors and the second he sees me, he comes strutting up. “VP, I got some shit to fill you in on.”

  I turn my head over to him. “Yeah?”

  “Mhm. I was just down in Rehoboth with Serpent like Gamble asked us. We’ve been followin’ them Beasts of Brutality around and seein’ what they’re up to. Well, they were invited to a party. I overheard their Prez sayin’ he was gonna go.”

  “When’s the party?” I ask Sly.

  “Tonight. Starts in an hour,” Sly states.

  Alright. “Needles, you in the mood to stir some shit up?” I glance back to my friend, who’s already off the couch. He didn’t even need a damn invitation.

  “When have I ever turned down a good time?” He cackles, and Sly looks between us.

  “You’re comin’ too, kid,” I comment.

  “Okay. I’ll go fill Gamble in,” Sly says, but I grab him by the back of his cut as he tries to walk in front of me.

  “Nope, not today. I’ve got personal shit tied up with these fuckers and I don’t need anyone screwin’ with my plans,” I tell him, and while Sly’s eyes go wide and he nods, Needles hisses behind me.

  I look over at Needles. “There a problem?”
>
  “Nah, brother, but you’re gonna be the one eatin’ shit for this. Not me or him,” Needles points out. If he’s only concerned about getting in trouble, then I don’t give a fuck.

  “Rest assured, nothin’ will be said to either of you. As a matter of fact, you two taggin’ along isn’t a request. It’s an order. C’mon, I don’t wanna be late to the party. It would be rude, wouldn’t it?” I question, and Needles claps his hands together in happiness.

  The three of us head out of the clubhouse and get on our bikes. Within a couple minutes, we have our helmets on and we’re rollin’ out of the lane, turnin’ on the back road that leads for quite a few miles until we hit Route 1.

  The entire ride, my hands bead with sweat and I find I’m clenching my jaw. When we’re about to roll up to the bar the party’s at, Sly motions with his hand for Needles and me to pull over. We do as he requests and all get off our bikes.

  “I heard that dude tell his guys to watch out for the Knights and the Reapers Rejects,” Sly tells me.

  Good, the fuckin’ idiot knows trouble is comin’, and he’s someone I have one hell of a bone to pick with. “Good, he knows we have a problem then,” I grumble.

  Sly leads us to the bar where the party is and instead of goin’ in through the front, we all walk in through the side entrance. I head up to the bar, where I spot three cuts. One guy is on the side and two are side by side, but there’s a bit of a gap between them. “We got your back, brother,” Needles states while I walk up to the two standing next to each other. I grab them each by the back of the head and slam their faces down onto the bar.

  The guy sittin’ at the corner hops off his barstool, but Needles knocks him off his feet, quite literally, trippin’ the big bastard. The two guys I just smashed against the bar whip around. One of them has a bloody nose while the other spits a tooth out in front of me.

  “Who the fuck are you?” one grits out. He’s about the same height as me and has blond hair. There’s a rose tattoo on his neck and otherwise, he looks slow as fuck. I can take ‘em. My eyes scan over his cut and I see his name—Scar.

  This is the bastard who hurt Mari.

  My nostrils flare and I have no control over what’s happening. I throw fists and Sly keeps the other dude at bay. Scar and I throw punches left and right. He hits me and I hit him. At some point, he does an uppercut and lands a punch in my eye.

  A gunshot goes off and everyone freezes. Naturally, I back up and check my body, lookin’ for bullet holes. As I realize I’m good, I look at Sly and then Needles. They’re both fine too. The person holdin’ the gun is a short woman, maybe about five-foot-two with blonde curly hair.

  “Get the fuck outta here before I call the cops and create a real issue. If you’re not out within the next ten seconds, I’ll make sure my next shot goes through one of you!”

  Well, damn. A spitfire with a shotgun.

  Scar waves and signals his guys to follow him toward the front door while I motion for Needles and Sly to go out of the side door with me. We head down the stairwell and look around for the Beasts of Brutality, but I don’t see them and I sure don’t see their bikes.

  Fuck. Where did they run off to?

  Chapter Twenty

  Marisole

  It’s been three days since I’ve seen him, and now it’s my sixth day since I’ve had any smack. I can’t stop thinking about whether or not I did something to upset him or if he got mad about everything I said the other day. He hasn’t been back since, so it might be true.

  I’ve heard two women laughing outside my door off and on since I spoke to Ravage, and it’s been quiet lately. They must have a key to the room ‘cause I’ve been waking up to food on the inside of the room. I haven’t heard the ladies today, so I stand up and walk over toward the door. Turning the light on, I find a bag on the ground and kneel to peek inside.

  In the bag is a pair of dark jean shorts and a Knights of Retribution t-shirt. Seems fitting given where I am. I take them out of the bag and continue looking through the bag. There’s a can of dry shampoo and a brush, so immediately, I pop the cap off the can, shake it good a few times, and spray it over my head. I let it settle and pull the rest of the stuff out of the bag. There’s a brand-new pair of size eight sneakers, a bra and underwear set, and an eight-pack of socks as well. I had a shower in the middle of the night to help me with the sweating. Sometimes it’s awful and I need another shower. Then again, sometimes I take another shower to help with my gut. The cramping is sharp and even though it’s the sixth day since I’ve had my last hit, it still feels like I’m being torn apart. I’ve always heard the seventh day is easier, but I have to make it there.

  I think it’s weird Ravage hasn’t been here in a few days, given the fact he was here by my side through the worst of it. I’m still having a hard time swallowing that pill. After how I hurt him, he was still here and if that doesn’t show what kind of man he is underneath his bad boy exterior, I don’t know what does.

  I take my time and change into the new clothes, kick off my old, nasty socks and put on the new ones and then take the sneakers out of the box. They’re a cyan color, which is my favorite. Immediately I smile, figuring Ravage went and bought these for me. I can’t wait to thank him.

  It takes me about ten minutes to get changed and brush my hair. For some reason, I put my hand on the door and turn the knob. Surprisingly, it opens and I step out of the room. The hallway is well lit and empty, so I walk down and at the end of the hall, I make a left, heading past the stairwell and walk out the door. The gravel lane with white and cream-colored stone is a few feet in front of me.

  Off to the right is the small cottage, then there’s a bigger building in the center, and there are other buildings to the left, including a farmhouse with a wrap-around porch. I walk to the bigger building in front of me and as I grow closer, I round the corner and spot a man in a cut smoking a cigarette. “Mornin,” the older man states. He’s wearing sunglasses and has a salt and pepper tinted beard. Scanning over his cut, I spot his name ‘Butcher’.

  “Morning. You seen Ravage around?” I ask, keeping my voice low. I want to be hopeful this guy isn’t bad, but I don’t know him. The only bikers I’ve ever met have been foul men.

  He nods and motions for me to follow him with his hand, so I follow closely behind him and walk inside the building. It’s dark at first and then he flicks on the lights. The entire room is illuminated and I spot Ravage with his arm under the back of his head, asleep on a couch. His left eye is black and blue, and he has bruises across his arms.

  What happened to him? My stomach sinks and immediately, I’m walking over to him. I grab onto the forearm that’s hanging off the side of the couch and before I can say a word, his eyes open and he’s starin’ right at me. “Guess Flora got the stuff in my room, huh?”

  “Obviously,” I murmur, staring at the rose tattoo on his left hand.

  “You sound worried,” Ravage has never had a problem speaking his mind, and he isn’t wrong.

  I glance up from looking at his hand. “Yeah, you look like shit.”

  “So did you when you got here.” He cracks a smile, obviously fucking with me.

  “Be serious for a second. I was worried when you didn’t come back. I thought something happened to you.”

  He squeezes my hand, and I suck in a deep breath. “I did somethin’ stupid and paid for it, so yeah, somethin’ did, but it was my stupidity. I had a price to pay, so I paid up to the club.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What?”

  “I blew our cover, what we were doin’. I acted out of anger and I should’ve waited . . . I was pissed about what happened to you and I acted a fool. That’s the way to sum it up, but I’m good, just gonna be a bit sore.”

  “I don’t like . . .” I stop speaking for a second while I try to gather my thoughts, but there’s no other way to say this other than speaking my mind. “I don’t like to see you this way. All bruised and hurt.”

  Ravage nods like he underst
ands. “Now you know a fraction of what it was like when I saw you again. I don’t think you realized it at the time, but you were hurtin’, baby. You still are, but you’re gettin’ better every day.”

  He takes his hand from mine and rubs the side of my face, and for the first time since seeing him, I smile. Ravage smiles too. “I think you should have dinner with the club and me tonight if you’re feelin’ up to it.”

  An uneasy feeling floods over me. The experiences I’ve had with bikers haven’t been great and the thought of eating dinner with a bunch of them? It terrifies me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ravage

  Marisole and I stuck around the property for most of the day. I took her around the main area, we walked on the path Mammoth has been constructing for Riva. She complained how she didn’t have a place to push Dahlia in the stroller, so he hopped to it per usual.

  I haven’t wanted to push her too far, so we’ve kept it leisurely. After a couple hours outside, I took her back to my bedroom and she ended up crashing on the bed halfway through a movie. We watched a comedy called Bridesmaids, which was the standard chick flick. When I realized she fell asleep, I turned the damn thing off and now it’s a bit past five. Dinner’s strictly at six every night, so I woke her up a few minutes ago and she’s in the bathroom now.

  I’m thinkin’ about takin’ her down to the beach beforehand. She hasn’t told me much about what happened when she was with the Beasts of Brutality, but I’m not an idiot. She doesn’t just have track marks all over her, but bruises too. I’m willin’ to bet money her husband is the one who gave her the bruises. Maybe his boys did too. I don’t know the circumstances, but one day I will get revenge for everything she went through. She shouldn’t have had to, and I’m trying my best to keep a brave face on for her. Though, it’s hard. Any time I get a free thought, the only thing I’m thinking about is blood. I want him to suffer for what he made her endure all these years. He treated her like a prisoner like she was a fuckin’ slave.